


Lionfang Week Day 1: Fascination

by Eriakit



Series: Lionfang Week 2020 [1]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Flirting, Flirting, Fluff, Lionfang Week, M/M, anduin isnt sure what hes doing but damn is he trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25375135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eriakit/pseuds/Eriakit
Summary: Anduin and Varok both enjoy long walks on the beach, tentative flirting, and rambling about their special interests.
Relationships: Varok Saurfang/Anduin Wrynn
Series: Lionfang Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837615
Comments: 12
Kudos: 31
Collections: Lionfang Prompt Week





	Lionfang Week Day 1: Fascination

**Author's Note:**

> This fic (and let's be real, most of my LF fics) handwaves the whole "Saurfang Dies" bs by having Thrall do the mak'gora (and therefore die) instead of him. It's better narratively, too, so that's a bonus.

Anduin could admit when he was wrong. It was one of his strengths, he felt - unlike his father, he could change his perspective without feeling like he’d lost his pride. Normally all he would feel, upon realizing how wrong he had been, would be sadness over all he had not seen, or seen _incorrectly,_ due to his misunderstanding.

As he walked through the streets of Orgrimmar, he was _incredibly_ sad about how very, very badly he had been wrong about the Horde. He’d always known they weren’t monsters like his father had told him, of course, but just a simple walk through the city had shown him more than he had ever thought there was to see about people so very different from himself, and yet also so similar.

The red canyon walls arched so dizzyingly high over his head he could barely make out the figures walking along the edges, and the sides were banded with more shades of brown and orange and red and yellow and grey than he was sure he could name. There were even faintly-sparkling streaks, minerals he didn’t know the name of showing their faces. Heavy, wooden elevators groaned and clanked as they were dragged up from the canyon floor to the plateau above, loud even over the indistinct chatter and mish-mashed noises of a busy, healthy city. Dark canopies shielded him from some of the sun as he neared what Saurfang had called the Drag, and the buildings grew more tightly-pressed. Some even stretched up like towers, all full to the brim with craftsmen, vendors, explorers, farmers, and more.

Anduin watched eagerly as a wolfrider tended to his mount, so similar to any knight in Stormwind after a battle but so alien, as well. Cleaning claws and teeth instead of hooves, combing and braiding fur instead of brushing hide and mane, tossing an entire pig into the enclosure instead of carefully laying out hay or setting up a feedbag. He was mute with fascination as other people around him went about their business, almost as if the mak’gora at their gates had never happened. Vendors were putting their goods back out for view. Priests sang prayers and danced for the dead, led by a troll and a tauren with an elderly orc sitting between them praying into a smoking brazier. Even a simple potter was glazing his last batch of vases as Anduin walked by, another orc at the table to the side of him busy painting them with intricate patterns.

They were so _resilient._ They grieved a leader, a savior, and yet still continued on. Were Anduin to die in battle at the gates to Stormwind, the common folk likely wouldn’t leave their homes half as quickly - for fear of further battles, if nothing else. But here they had merely attended Thrall’s funeral and then… moved on. Just as he would’ve wanted, no doubt.

“You’re quiet, Your Majesty,” Saurfang rumbled, and Anduin flushed guiltily as he looked over at his guide.

“My apologies, I’m only…” He trailed off, unsure how to word his awe for the people of Orgrimmar in Orcish without either insulting Saurfang’s people or coming across as the worst sort of idiot. He could already feel himself turning pinker at the thought.

Saurfang bent a bit to squint at his face, before nodding. “Ah, you must be tired. The heat here saps the energy like nothing else - it looks like you might be burning, already.” He shook his head as Anduin tried to formulate a correction without making things worse. “Don’t worry, the elves have the same problems. It seems highly bothersome to deal with, though. I’m surprised any humans can live where the sun shines brightly.”

Saurfang pressed two fingers into the small of Anduin’s back, gently directing him to turn and go back towards the Hold, and Anduin couldn’t help but laugh. Saurfang raised a brow at him, letting his hand drop to his side. Anduin shook his head, covering his face with one hand so he at least didn’t have to see the moment Saurfang realized he could be this ridiculous.

“I’m not overheated, High Overlord. I’m… well, I’m embarrassed. I didn’t mean to neglect you on our walk, it’s just that this place is… I hadn’t expected it to be like this.” He winced, lowering his hand to peek at Saurfang’s face.

The orc’s brow scrunched up briefly, before relaxing into amusement. His entire, massive body shook, before letting out a cough that sounded suspiciously laugh-like. “Did you expect huts of mud and thatch?”

Anduin made a pained noise in the back of his throat. “Not - no. I just, well, everything is so -” Saurfang’s lips twitched, and Anduin came perilously close to stomping his foot in outrage. “Teasing is often unkind, you know,” he muttered, squinting against the sun as he glowered up at the orc.

Saurfang chuckled. “Relax, Your Majesty. Much of this place _was_ huddled huts and mud, prior to Hellscream’s rule. He retrofitted much of the city, improving our defenses and -” Saurfang coughed again, no longer amused but bashful. “I’m sorry, I know more about the city than most care to hear.” Anduin blinked, straightening as he realized he’d leaned in at even a glimmer of more knowledge about this rock-hewn city. He couldn’t help but reach out, his bare hand coming to rest on Saurfang’s forearm. It felt more intimate to him than it should - he was hyper aware of every hair under his palm, at the pulse he could just-barely feel under his fingertips. But he kept it there, heart speeding up just a little, as Saurfang looked at him in surprise.

“I’d love to hear about the city,” Anduin said, all in a rush of breath. He felt his ears burn a little pinker, but continued. “I’m fascinated by it, and it’s people. They seem to adjust so quickly to the loss of their warchief - and Thrall - it’s almost beyond belief.”

Saurfang cleared his throat, feet shuffling a little in the red dirt. “We’ve become tragically accustomed to it, I’m afraid. Life can be fleeting in our world. It’s best to enjoy it while it lasts and move on quickly… as much as one can.” He swallowed hard, but cut off Anduin preemptively with a headshake. “Nevermind that. Did you, ah, have any specific questions about the city, Your Majesty?”

“Call me Anduin, please. You weren’t half so formal on the road here.” A dozen questions were dancing on the tip of his tongue, but this detail seemed far more important, somehow. The formality once the battle was over had irked him consistently.

Saurfang grinned down at him, tusks and teeth on full display. It made something that wasn’t _quite_ fear writhe in Anduin’s chest. “Sometimes things change when people meet face-to-face again. I didn’t want to presume.”

“Presume away,” slipped out of Anduin’s mouth without so much as consulting his brain first. He silently prayed for a kind-hearted shaman to pick up on his distress and make the earth split open and swallow him. No such luck.

But Saurfang just laughed again, leaning in ever so slightly closer to Anduin. “Let’s start with being presumptive about names, and work from there, Anduin.” There was something of a challenge in his eyes as he slid his arm away from Anduin’s touch to spread his hand, wide and warm, across Anduin’s back.

It was unfairly difficult to get a full breath, all of a sudden, but Anduin managed it. If only to dig the hole he found himself in deeper. “Work towards where, Varok?”

The hand against his back twitched, and he could’ve sworn he _felt_ the small rumble Saurfang let out. “...the Valley of Wisdom, I think, for now.”

A faint pang of disappointment over Saurfang changing the subject warred with the vague feeling that he’d won some sort of delicate, verbal game of chicken. The combination made him giddy, and he beamed up at Saurfang, leaning his shoulder slightly into the orc’s arm. “Lets go, then. I can’t wait.”

Varok cleared his throat as he started them off again. It was amazing how few people had stopped to watch them stand in the street and talk, but there were still a half dozen or so eyeing them curiously as Saurfang once again urged Anduin to ask any questions he liked as they made their way through the Drag towards the other Valley. Anduin tuned out the onlookers easily, but Saurfang seemed oddly unaccustomed to their gazes. Or perhaps uncomfortable on Anduin’s account?

Anduin hummed, but let it slide. He’d rather listen to Saurfang talk about his city. “Who’s idea was it to build into the cliffs? Doesn’t it flood when it rains?”

Varok seemed relieved to have a familiar subject to talk about. “Well, when it rains, and it rarely does, most of it is directed by the rooves to where we want it, and then it joins the water from the waterfall -“

“You have a waterfall?”

Varok blinked. “ _I_ don’t, but the city does. We’re headed to it now, actually. It’s naturally occurring, but was widened and shored up under the guidance of -“

Anduin listened avidly as they walked, tucking himself closer into Varok’s side as they went. The only thing more interesting than the city itself was listening to Varok talk about it with such enthusiasm. He hoped they could have more conversations like this during his stay in Orgrimmar - many, many more.

Walking into the Valley of Wisdom was like walking into an entirely different world. Anduin gaped at the sudden burst of greens and blues in the sea of red, orange, and black that had until now made up the entirety of Durotar, and Orgrimmar especially. The tauren-style tents and longhouse on the other side of the small lake from him were beautifully decorated with depictions of hunts and battles and ancestors, the people milling around them mostly tauren but with more than a few trolls, orcs, and elves. There was even a goblin sitting on a tall basket, laughing with a tauren woman as he flipped a gold coin around his fingers. The lush palms and brightly colored flowers clustered around the water’s edge framed the picture perfectly, like something out of a painting.

“- which led to far fewer issues with water in the city, and… Anduin? Are you alright?”

Anduin shook himself, smiling awkwardly up at Varok. “Sorry, I just…” He considered lying, or just coming up with some answer to Varok’s story about how the Valley of Wisdom had been expanded. Instead, the truth came easier and quicker to his lips than he’d expected. “I just wish I could capture this view, somehow. Not just a flat image, but the _feeling_ of it. I wish I could show the Alliance how alike we are, and how peaceful the Horde can be.”

“Ahh,” Varok rumbled. His thumb rubbed back and forth over Anduin’s spine, comforting in a way that made Anduin want to rest his head on Varok’s shoulder and let someone else handle everything, if only for a moment. “If only we could. And find something with a similar sentiment to shove in the faces of a few warleaders I know.”

Anduin chuckled. “Maybe we should make a picture-book. Since the people I’m thinking of that need to see this can’t seem to read - at least not when it’s anything to do with _not_ shooting at people.”

Varok _cackled,_ deep and malicious enough that if Anduin had heard it in a dark alley he might’ve run screaming. In the bright of day, knowing who had made the noise, it only made him snort. Varok squeezed him close in a one armed hug, mirth written all over his face. “Indeed. Perhaps we should bring one of those goblin cameras with us on our next walk. I’m sure they have some way to make the pictures bigger, to be sure the blind fools can see everything.”

Anduin’s mind caught and hung itself on the words _our next walk._ He felt like his heart was straining just from that, and wondered, embarrassed, if Varok could hear it. “Definitely. Perhaps we could even go for a walk outside of the city? Or I could convince you to make your way to Stormwind, someday? We have a few small parks, and the woods circle the city. I’m not much of a hunter, but if you are, there's plenty of game.”

Varok went oddly still. Anduin thought, briefly, that maybe he’d done something wrong - but Varok’s hand was still on his back, and he looked… warm. Surprised, not angry, and hopefully pleasantly so.

“I… would like that,” Varok answered, words slow and measured. “Very much so.” He smiled, gentle even around his tusks. “Maybe then you could be the one rambling like a fool about water features.”

Anduin nodded seriously, fighting a smile at the thought of walking Varok around his home. “Oh, I would. Extensively. We have canals, and I know enough random trivia about them alone to talk a dragon to sleep.” Though who knew if Wrathion had been faking or not, that time.

Varok snorted and patted him on the back - carefully enough that Anduin didn’t so much as sway, but so controlled Anduin was suddenly certain that Varok could swat him halfway across the city, if he wanted to - and started walking again. “Let’s start with the Valley of Spirits before we march all the way to Sen’jin. But maybe soon.”

“If I behave myself?”

Varok huffed, and his face looked slightly darker green than it had before. “I somehow grow increasingly convinced that that’s impossible, Anduin. More like if we can find a way to escape paperwork for a few days all at once before you leave.”

“I’ll do my best to make time,” Anduin said, suddenly unwilling to miss any chance for time alone with Varok.

Varok rumbled, petting Anduin’s back with his thumb again. “As will I.”

**Author's Note:**

> The first LF I've written that isn't just an excuse for orc porn. Lemme know if you liked it!


End file.
